


Three minutes

by britishbossy



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishbossy/pseuds/britishbossy
Summary: The Empty Hearse Pondlock-Style: Sherlock and Amy discover the bomb train and Sherlock can’t resist that little joke. But Amy’s reaction is quite a different one than he expected...





	

When her eyes fell on him, time seemed to stop. He couldn’t solve it. Sherlock Holmes was failing right in front of her. He opened his eyes and stared at her in horror while she mirrored his gaze. He had no idea how to turn off the timer.

 

“No”, she said, trying to keep her composure. “Yer kidding me”.

Sherlock shook his head, making his dark curls bounce. Amy had never seen him so lost, so hopeless, so utterly dumbfounded. The detective shallowed hard, his eyes darting from one corner to the next. It scared her more than anything else. He took a step towards her, halting right in front of her. His hand was close to her arm but not touching it.

“Amelia, you...go. Go, now!”

“It’s no use!”, she shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed on his, afraid that if she looked anywhere else she might faint.

“Three minutes, isn’t it? That’s all the time we have. That’s it.”

“Amelia, I...”

“No, don’t. Don’t apologize. It’s okay”.

She gripped one of the yellow bars inside the train, trying to get it into her head. They would die down here. This was how the story of Amelia Pond was going to end. Blown up by a bomb, unable to stop it from blowing up the Parliament only seconds later.

Sherlock brought her attention back to him by touching her arm lightly. He looked down at her, his eyes red with tears and his chest falling under his heavy breath.

“I’m sorry. Forgive me, Amelia”.

She shook her head, trying her best to give him a smile.

“It’s not your fault. You tried your best and-“

“That’s not what I mean.” He brought up his other hand, holding both of her arms now.

“I mean the past two years. Please, forgive me for all the hurt that I caused you”. His breath caught at the last words and she nodded to herself.

The past two years where she had thought him dead. Sherlock had faked his own death, fighting Moriarty and taking down his network all over Europe. Amy Pond had been Amy Williams back then and the “death” of her childhood friend had turned her life upsite down. Too late she had realised that she felt more for Sherlock than just friendship. She had never told him and believing that he would never feel the same way about her, she had married Rory instead. But soon after Sherlock’s suicide she had come to the conculsion that it had been the wrong decision. She was divorced now and Sherlock was back and they were running together like before, only that John was still pissed which was the reason he wasn’t with them tonight. A part of her was released that he wasn’t. John Watson had finally found someone and they would live. But Sherlock and her would die. She looked at him, taking in his handsome features, those blue green eyes, sharp cheek bones and plush lips and her mind closed down. This was her last chance. Her very last one and this time she would be with him. Like she should be. Her and Sherlock were together now. What difference did it make? In a sudden movement, she grapped the lapels of his coat, pulled him close and kissed him.

 

He sucked in breath and froze in shock when her lips met his. He had intended to make a joke, a very poor one, as he realised now. Never had Sherlock expected that Amelia Pond would use her “last minutes” to do _this_. Not that he didn’t like it, though. In fact, as his eyes fell closed at her soft yet demanding caress he just remembered how many times he had craved to do that before but the circumstances had never been right. First, they had been friends, both of them too young to understand such feelings. Then, they had met again and he had just got clean and she was engaged to Rory Williams. There had been years in between when they had run off with the Raggedy Doctor, an imaginary friend who had not been imaginary at all in the end. But then they had stopped and she had found him once more. They had been solving crimes together, Amelia, John and him and it had been so much fun but he had never taken his chance, afraid of rejection. She had been married to Rory and Sherlock had known that he had lost. And the past two years, she had believed him dead. Now she was divorced but Sherlock had never expected her to turn back to him. He didn’t deserve it, not after everything he had done. Or did he? She was kissing him, clinging to him in desperation and finally he came to his senses and kissed her back. He closed his arms around her and pulled her flush against him, wondering how he had survived so long without this. Burying one hand in the softness of her ginger hair, he kissed her deeper, the bomb he had turned off seconds ago and his terrible joke forgotten. She tasted so good and smelled as sweet as ever. Sherlock felt drunk and high, no, actually he felt better than that. Being high didn’t even compare. His heart was pounding loudly and he forgot to breathe. All that mattered right now was holding Amelia in his arms and kissing the life out of her. The longer it took, the bolder he grew, and he pulled her even closer, kissed her even deeper, making her moan into his mouth.

 

The sound of a dog barking made them draw apart and they stared at each other, both of them dazed from the kissing. Catching her breath, Amy looked over Sherlock’s shoulder, seeing lights inside the tunnel, moving towards them. She furrowed her brows and was about to panic when her eyes fell to the ground at the red light of the bomb. The timer had stopped. She looked up at Sherlock who was still holding her close, his pupils blown, staring at her with unashamed desire.

“Sherlock? What about the bomb?”, she asked, gritting her teeth.

He blinked a few times as if he had forgotten about it. Then, he smiled shyly, looking away.

“Well, about that...”

Amy’s eyes widened in disbelief. Would Sherlock Holmes ever stop being a prick? She wanted to slap him. She wanted to rip his clothes off and take him right there.

“Of course, you called for back-up”, she sighed. Sherlock’s smile widened, ever so arrogantly.

“I suppose that one time with a bomb and no back-up would be enough to-”

“Oi!”, she interrupted him and pulled him back towards her. “Shut up!”

And with one last angry glare she kissed him silent once more.


End file.
